


Birthday Hurricanes

by Strbck23



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:57:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6938677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strbck23/pseuds/Strbck23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was pretty much a dick about birthdays. Always have been. But there had been a greater divide than forgotten birthdays between us as of late."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Is this seriously still necessary? Has anyone ever really been sued for Fan Fiction? All right, all right, here's my obligatory spiel: Not mine. It sucks. The end.

Rating: PG…13. Probably going to escalate.

Spoilers: Heavy Fowley spoilers. The End/The Beginning, Two Fathers/One Son. Also FTF. Post-Agua Mala.

Author's Notes: (Originally posted 2/14/2016 on fanfiction.net.) Omg, this was hard. Like my hardest challenge yet. Usually, Mulder is easy, but this was a earlier, more brooding Mulder than I usually dwell on.

Also, after some discussion on a Facebook group, I decided I'm going to ignore that there was a Hurricane so early in the year…though it doesn't seem likely. If Chris Carter wants to put an episode about a Hurricane so soon after Christmas, I will make it Scully's birthday. Damn it.

Feedback: I stalk my email for feedback harder than I stalked David Duchovny last year.

* * *

"You going to submit this with yours?" Scully asks as she puts her report in front of me. We've been in the office all afternoon, completing our reports after the hurricane in Florida. She moves to the door, putting on her coat.

"Yeah." I flip through hers, making sure she remembered to sign it in all the right places. I look at the pictures of the puncture wounds in my own neck, scratching an itch there as I think about them.

"I want to take the day off tomorrow, Mulder."

I glance up at her, by the door. She has one hand on the door, carrying her bag now with the other. Tomorrow is…Tuesday? "Ok? Any big plans?"

She smirks and looks down. "Nothing in particular. I'm tired. I'm going home. Have a good evening, Mulder." Then she is gone.

I'm staring at the door, tapping a pencil against my chin, thinking she's been in a funk all day. Then as she was leaving, she acted as if I had forgotten her birthday or something. I look at my calendar. "Shit…" Of course, tomorrow IS her birthday. I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. The business day being through, I don't care that I mess it up.

I tear February 22 from the calendar and look at February 23. I had not acknowledged her birthday since the year she was ill. Besides a stupid childish card the next year, with the same 'Mulder' scribble I would leave after a note saying I would be right back. I was pretty much a dick about birthdays. Always have been. But there had been a greater divide than forgotten birthdays between us as of late.

I hear her voice in my head 'You don't need me, Mulder. You never have. I've just held you back.' Back when we had gone through what we went through last summer, with them threatening and succeeding at shutting us down, her deciding to leave…I knew I needed her with me like I needed my next breath. With the thought of her leaving, the feelings I felt when I chased her into my hallway came spilling out of my mouth. Even as I was saying them, I questioned where they were coming from. I did not question if I meant what I was saying. No, of course I meant it. I just wasn't aware that I had felt them before that moment.

Her doubt of her importance in my life, in our work stemmed from Diana. I knew that then as I know it today. The words of self-doubt she spoke came from her distrust in Diana, my own trust in Diana. Not over Scully, but I did trust Diana when Scully didn't. And that hadn't even been the worst of it. 'I guess it all comes down to a question of trust. I guess it always has,' she had said to me. I have to admit now, I was torn. It felt as if Scully did want me to make a choice. Surely she knew if we could all work together, get on the same page, we could fight the darker forces. I had told her that she was making it personal. 'Because without the FBI, personal interest is all that I have.'

She was right on that count. As much as I wanted answers, so did she. She had lost just as much, if not more than I. I lost my sister, there is that. I could say I lost my father, but what kind of relationship did we have, anyway? And my personal relationships? Who's to say I wouldn't have turned out a selfish moron whether my sister was taken from me or not. I smirk, thinking I was doing a pretty good job of fucking it up with the one person I did call my friend. The one person who had fought and sacrificed with me.

I had almost pushed her away after I brought her back from Antarctica. So soon after losing her both as my partner AND for good. It had occurred to me only then, as it usually only did after such an ordeal, how much I couldn't take losing her. For good. I had come SO very close to losing her. It was a miracle-for lack of a better word-that I had even found her in a craft so big to begin with. 'If I quit now, they win.' She had echoed back at me. She needed the Truth as much as I did. But in a way, I was reluctant to let her back in. And to lose her because I pushed her away, it would have been in my control. If she'd left, done something else with her life, at least she would have been safe.

I nod slowly as I feel a wave of realization wash over me. Was Diana a better choice on the X-Files because I simply cared less about her? I shake my head, trying to figure out what kind of logic that might be.

I have…no, had…feelings for Diana, certainly. Sure, it had hurt when she left all those years ago. But I had no reason to distrust her now. When she left, our relationship had been falling down around us. She had grown disenchanted with my dreams for the X-Files, and I was all too willing to let her go. I loved her, but was willing to let our relationship fall away. Neither of us fought, really. It was just over.

When Diana kissed me in her apartment, I considered for the first time that she had come back to into my life with more than a renewed interest in the X-Files. For a brief moment, I had kissed her back. It felt comfortable. And comfort is certainly what I needed after learning what I had just learned from the Cigarette Smoking Man. But then, I remember, I thought of Scully. Of calling her, of getting her to that Air Force Base. If I could take one person with me, it would be Scully. I felt like a traitor. My heart was through with Diana.

I don't remember how exactly I came to the realization, with Diana's lips on mine. I only recall that I had a vivid memory of nearly kissing Scully in my hallway. I still wanted to. As I had done with someone that looked so much like her on the Queen Anne, knowing even then what I had to get back home to.

This was all a moot point, now. I had not heard from Diana since the mass murder at the Air Force Base. I, to this day, will not jump to conclusions about her lack of contact. But her body was not found there.

I run the metal part of the pencil over my lips as I think of nearly kissing Scully. What would have happened if not for that bee? Would I have taken her into my arms, continued to convince her in a new and different way to stay? Would she have let me? Would I have taken her inside? I clear my throat, looking to her area of the office with a guilty look. My mind had just promptly recalled a glimpse of her breasts in that decontamination shower a few weeks ago.

I try to steer my mind back to my original subject. Though Diana was currently out of the picture, a divide remained between Scully and I. I told her in my hallway what she meant to me, how much I needed her. Yet, time and time again since I had brought her back from Antarctica, my actions had shown the opposite, hadn't they? In the months that we had lost the X-Files, I had drug her off of our background checks to follow hunches, putting her up to the wrath of Kersh. I had disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle, leaving her to move Heaven and Earth to rescue me. I had stolen her car keys to make her follow me into a haunted house. Why I felt I needed her on those excursions was becoming clear to me now, I just wanted her there. Whether she wanted to be there or not. I would push her away, then reel her back in. What kind of sick bastard was I?

I'd even drug her to Area 51 to follow a lead by an informant that didn't pan out. I recall a conversation we'd had in the car on that trip. She was rambling something about slowing down and, I don't know, picket fences? There was something about a dog.

I am tapping the eraser of my pencil against my forehead now. February 23 is still staring back at me. I've been brooding for so long, you'd think it was my birthday tomorrow. It really is no wonder she had been in a funk all day. Turning 35 tomorrow, back on the X-Files with me. For the first time ever, I considered what it would be like to lose her to a normal life. Not to some government conspiracy, not to some fearsome mutant, but to some normal guy. With a house and a two car garage.

Could Scully ever be interested in such a thing? It was hard to picture my Scully playing house, double dating on Fridays. It was more fearsome than the most gruesome mutant my mind could imagine. I suppose I could deal with it by saying I was happy for her happiness, but it made me feel sick in the pit of my stomach. I imagine her, happy in some man's arms and I snap the pencil in my hand. I look at it, surprised. I want her in my arms. *I* want to kiss her.

I drop the pencil on the desk, my hand hanging there, frozen. What is this? Certainly I'd had non-platonic thoughts of her. On more than one occasion. But what of…more? I pictured her happy in my arms. I lower my chin to my forearm on my desk, smiling despite myself. After all we've been through, lately, I imagine waking up with her on Sunday morning. Having her for breakfast.

I bury my face into the crook of my arm, groaning. I shouldn't really be thinking such things, not knowing if she felt the same. Could she, even? I am, have been, a horse's ass. Arthur Dales had been absolutely right. 'It takes a big man to admit this, but, if I had had someone as savvy as her by my side all those years ago on the X-Files, I might not have retired.'

Forget all of the other mixed feelings, she deserved to know where she stood in my eyes, I thought as I looked at the date of her birthday once again. And not with some Snowball cake with a damned sparkler on top. I could slow down, I could take time and appreciate her as a partner and a friend. Couldn't I?

* * *

"It's a question of lust

It's a question of trust

It's a question of not letting

What we've built up

Crumble to dust

It is all of these things and more

That keep us together"

Depeche Mode-A Question of Lust


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Is this seriously still necessary? Has anyone ever really been sued for Fan Fiction? All right, all right, here's my obligatory spiel: Not mine. It sucks. The end.

Rating: PG…13. Probably going to escalate.

Spoilers: Heavy Fowley spoilers. The End/The Beginning, Two Fathers/One Son. Also FTF. Post-Agua Mala.

Author's Notes: Cool, didn't even know I wanted to write Scully POV until I was done with the last part. I will try to alternate now.

Feedback: I stalk my email for feedback harder than I stalked David Duchovny last year.

* * *

I have been fighting waking up for almost an hour now. I roll over once more, my hip protesting. Did I sleep in a weird position, or was it simply reminding me of my birthday? I close my eyes, trying to sleep a little longer. I open my eyes again, holding my forehead with my hand and making a pouty face. I had had over half a bottle of wine with my bubble bath last night, and I was paying for it now.

I throw the covers off of me and sit up, looking around, wishing I could sleep the day away. I move to the edge of the bed, put on my slippers and go to the bathroom. I stand in front of the mirror and straighten my hair. Thirty-five years old. I make another pouty face and tsk as I lean in, looking at the small hints of wrinkles. This isn't part of my usual morning routine, but I am a woman on her thirty-fifth birthday after all. I slump, giving myself just one minute to dwell on it.

Then, I straighten my back, putting on my game face. I am thirty-five and my life is what it is. I drink a glass of water, go to the kitchen to start some coffee, then go to my bedroom to get dressed. I will go for a jog in the park. It was an unseasonably 'warm' day for February. I hated jogging, but always felt better after getting some exercise. My birthday would be a good day. No FBI, no badge, no gun. No Mulder…

A half hour later, I put my headphones in, shivering a little. I left my jacket in the car for the jog, knowing I will warm up soon. I turn it to the 80s station, my favorite running music. I smile at the Hall & Oates song they are playing. There is some music that will always lighten my mood, help me forget everything for a few minutes.

Soon I am running down the jogging path, I have it all to myself on this chilly Tuesday morning. "Well, well, well you, you make my dreams come true ooh-ooh!" I sing to myself, not a soul in sight. I laugh, I can't carry a tune under normal circumstances, and now I'm running.

I sigh when I hear commercials begin, consider changing it but don't bother. I wonder what Mulder's up to. Maybe he decided to take the day off also. Perhaps it would do him some good. I certainly needed it. The weight on my shoulders called Diana Fowley is out of the picture, for now, but I am sure I haven't seen the last of that…woman. Mulder has been a…Mulder has not been a nice guy. I am a grown woman and can take him being a jerk, but to blindly trust Agent Fowley after undeniable proof found by his best friends, the Gunmen, that something was off about her background? Her motives just stank, and her perfume didn't smell good either.

I roll my eyes as I turn a corner. 'Hello,' I think. There's a man running towards me on the trail. He's handsome. Not very tall, but neither am I. He smiles and it's stunning. He visibly slows down as he runs past me, making eye contact. I see him turn to run backwards out of the corner of my eye as I pass. I shake my head an continue on. I'm not annoyed by it as if it had been anywhere near the Hoover Building. Of course, I should be glad that I can still turn heads anywhere at thirty-five. I scowl at the thought.

I turn my head and see the man turning to look at me before he rounds the bend I just came out of. It did feel good to be checked out. Mulder has sure been checking someone out enough, lately. I scowl again at that thought. I'm not jealous…am I? Why was I even thinking of him? I feel my cheeks grow more red than the chilly wind already has them. He almost kissed me last summer. He would have, if I had not been stung. I would have let him.

I question, even now, if I should have even almost let him. Hell, especially now, given the rift that had grown between us. I am glad we had been interrupted. I couldn't imagine the fallout, and that was before the most trying times with Agent Fowley. Still, my mind drifted. I remember the moment I realized he was going to kiss me. Holding my eyes with his as he inched closer. Glancing down at my lips, back into my eyes, making sure I knew what he was about to do. Back to my lips. My lips parted for his, the rest of my body frozen. What would have happened?

I appreciated his words before that moment. God knows I did. I hung onto those words for life during the Dark Days of Diana Fowley. I smirk at my new phrase for those times. It was true, though. All I wanted was for him to keep a level head, to not let his history with her cloud his judgement. Then he had the nerve to say I was making it personal. Of course it was personal. Didn't he realize our relationship is more than partners? I am his friend! Of *course* it was personal! He nearly kissed me, then tried to push me away and acted like a complete asshole when I tried to remove his blinders. So what if I didn't like her?! That was beside the point. So what if the thought of them holding hands and smiling, no doubt reminiscing in that psychiatric facility, made me want to…punch something!

I come to a stop in my running like I just hit a brick wall. I put my hands on my knees, breathing in deeply. I hadn't realized how hard I was pushing myself. I stand up slowly with a hand on my side, I wince at the stitch developing there, my lungs burning from the cold air. I pull the headphones out of my ears, annoyed with Karma Chameleon. I usually love that song.

I walk around in a few circles, stretching against the stitch in my side. I bend and stretch my legs a few times, done with the running for today. I'm walking slowly back to the entrance of the park, to my car.

Just about the time I make it to the beginning of the jogging trail, that handsome man comes running up from the other direction. We make it to the sidewalk to the parking lot at the same time.

"Hi, I'm Chris," he says, considerably more out of breath than I am.

"Dana, hi." I am tucking my walkman away into my pack.

"Wanna go for coffee?"

He's caught me off guard. "I, uh…well. I…" I sigh. "No, thank you."

"Someone else?"

"Well," I lick my upper lip and shake my head. "It's uh…It's complicated?"

"I see…" He raises his arms, stretching his back as we walk.

"Well, not complicated like that. I mean-"

He cuts me off, "Yeah, whatever." He smirks and runs off.

I stop walking and watch him go. "O…k." I mouth, very glad I didn't go for coffee now.

I go home and take a long, warming shower. I eat a quick lunch and make some tea. I am just about to sit on the couch with a brand new book when the phone rings.

"No…" RING. "Oh, no…uh uh." I go and remove it from the charger. I answer with, "No, Mulder."

"Scully, I know you said you want to take the day off, but-"

"No 'but,' Mulder. Please! One day! Can't it wait?" I'm so frustrated. He pauses so long, I wonder if he's there. I look at my phone to check the connection before saying. "Hello?"

"Scully, please, it's important." He sounds deflated.

I sigh, a hand on my hip. I swear, I'm still considering telling him no when the word "where?" comes out of my mouth.

He's immediately hyper again. "723 Valley Road. At West 81st Street. Dress warm, we'll be outside…but, casual, we'll be here a while." He hangs up before I can get any more detail out of him. I go over to the sink and pour out the mug of tea I made.

Happy Birthday to me.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Is this seriously still necessary? Has anyone ever really been sued for Fan Fiction? All right, all right, here's my obligatory spiel: Not mine. It sucks. The end.

Rating: PG…13. Probably going to escalate.

Spoilers: Heavy Fowley spoilers. The End/The Beginning, Two Fathers/One Son. Also FTF. Post-Agua Mala.

Author's Notes: I do have ideas for more, a tiny bit written. Though this could be an ending, I think I'll keep going. ;-)

Feedback: I stalk my email for feedback harder than I stalked David Duchovny last year.

* * *

I am leaning against a wall, watching the door, waiting on Scully to get here. I've been waiting about 15 minutes, checking my watch constantly. She sounded so disappointed on the phone, more than I imagined. I don't even know how I managed to get her to agree to meet me, under the pretenses of work, when she was so set on having her birthday off. I have always, in a way, been able to manipulate her in that way. Was I always proud of it? No, of course not. But that never stopped me. Selfish tool that I am. Perhaps I can take one small step towards making up for that today.

Finally, she walks in and I watch her for a few moments. She's looking around, pulling out her phone to call me. She's done as I suggested, dressed warm and casual. She is wearing a dark gray woven wool sweater, black jeans and her black leather boots. Over it all, she wears a black knee length jacket. She is straightening her hair as she looks down at her phone. I sometimes watch her when she thinks no one is looking. Her face relaxed, soft, not hardened to the world. Her unconventionally pretty, imperfect mouth relaxed and parted just open as she concentrates on dialing the phone. 'I do not gaze at Scully.'

I roll my eyes and whistle at her, over a few groups of people with rowdy kids. She snaps her head to me and makes her way through the crowd, nearly scowling.

She finally makes it to me. "Don't these kids go to school?" She reaches a hand out to examine the wounds on my neck, standing on her toes. She pulls the bandage away enough to see under it before I swat her away, turning my head away from her.

I reach next to me, retrieving something to hand to her. "The girl at the counter said they're having some kind of home school day out or something."

"Ah…" She looks down at the mini golf putter I'm extending to her. "Is that a murder weapon, Mulder? Where are your gloves?"

"No latex required, Scully. We're going to play."

"You're kidding."

"No, check this one out." I'm still holding it out in front of her. "About your size?"

"Mulder…" Her arms are crossed, her back arching away from me as if I'm holding out a can of worms, a scowl on her lips.

"Happy birthday, Scully." Her eyes jump from the putter in my hand to my eyes. I watch her lips twitch from that scowl to suppressing a smile as she blinks a few times. "Come on. I know it's not the thirty fifth birthday you always dreamt of, but I did put some thought into it."

"You did, huh?" She takes the putter from my hands and examines it with a skeptical eye, before giving me an equally skeptic look.

"See, I tried to think of something with minimal distraction." She looks at all the kids around us. "Where would I ever find a conspiracy here?"

"Didn't I once tell you that you could find a conspiracy in the desert?"

"No, you told me I would try to find the Truth in the desert if someone told me it was out there."

"I stand corrected…"

"Anyway," I pull two balls out of my jacket pocket. "I won't even crack a joke about my balls." I smirk. "Take your pick."

She gives me a classic Scully glare. Isn't she aware by now that I know she is hiding her amusement? She picks the red ball, leaving me with the blue one. She takes the score sheet that I've just pulled out of my pocket, examining it. "Nine holes only."

"Scully! I paid for all 18."

"Nine. It's gotten colder out here," she says as we walk outside. It has actually, there are clouds coming in and it's gotten windy.

"Ok, nine. And then dinner."

"Did you pay for the whole pizza party?" She deadpans. "I hope you invited ALL of my friends."

I squint at her, "You first, birthday girl."

A while later, we're on the last one. I putt my ball into the ninth hole and pull out the score sheet…"Ok…ooh, that's one under par on this one." I smile up at her. "And I finished in 3 strokes less than you, Scully."

"Wonderful." Fortunately, Scully doesn't mind losing. I get the impression she would rather lose than have someone let her win.

"You're getting better though, sure you don't want to finish?"

"No, Mulder. Thank you, but I'm cold." She's rubbing her hands together and looking up at the sky, at the gray clouds continuing to fill the sky.

I take her putter and ball, ushering her back inside. "Hungry? I saw an Italian restaurant a few blocks up, we can walk to it?" I can see her weighing it in her mind, no doubt considering just going home and taking a warm bath before getting ready for work tomorrow. "Come on, birthday girl, it's on me."

She suppresses a smile while I turn in our putters and balls. "Sure, fine…let's go."

We walk up the street in silence. When we walk inside, I look around. This is a little more fancy than I anticipated. I look around and look down at my attire. There may be a dress code. I happened to wear a blazer type jacket over my sweater, so I may just pass muster. I walk to the little man at the podium just inside the door. I am tempted to call him Jeeves. "Hey…table for two?"

He looks down his nose at me, first taking in the bandage on my neck, then my outfit. I gather he supposes my threads will do on a slow Tuesday night. "This way…sir"

He leads us to a table in the back. After he seats Scully and gives me another look down his nose, he walks away. I lean over her with a hand on the back of her chair. "Be right back."

I go to the bathroom and pull the bandage away from my neck. I examine a few of the wounds where a tentacle had reached out and wrapped around my neck. They are certainly still noticeable, but not nearly as unattractive as the bandage wrapped around my neck. I remove the bandage and discard it.

When I return to the table, I notice Jeeves had set my place next to hers. This was not our customary seating arrangement, I across form her. I sit down and place my napkin over my lap. "This is rather fancy shmancy, eh, Scully?" This is more of a 'date' setting than I anticipated, candles on the tables and all.

She is leaning over, touching my neck tentatively. "Are you applying that ointment I gave you?"

I swat her away again. "Would you stop?"

She dodges my hand, turning my chin to look at the other side. "It looks ok. Probably best you took the bandage off."

I lean away from her, grab her hand and push it towards her. "Ok, Doc. Leave it." I duck my head, catching her eyes, making sure she understands before I let go of her hand. "All right…let's order wine, birthday girl." I pick up the little wine menu. "Red or white?" She looks hesitant. "Come on, Scully, don't make me choose."

Small hint of a smile. "Red."

A while later, we have ordered and received our food. We are eating in our customary silence, especially since there is no case to talk about. I watch her for a few moments, she doesn't notice me. She chews and swallows a bit of her pasta, dabs her napkin at the edge of her mouth. She clears her throat and sips her wine, her blue eyes observing other couples in the restaurant over her wine glass. I do gaze at Scully. "Hey, Scully…" I clear my own throat and take a sip of wine before I grab the bottle and top both of us off. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

Her eyebrows raise in question with her fork in her mouth, taking a bite of her pasta. When she's managed to chew her food enough, she asks, "About…?"

"Well, I uh…I know we've been through a lot lately. I just uh, I wanted to make sure everything is ok. Are you ok? Are we ok? As uh…as partners, I mean." She slowly places her fork down on her plate, but doesn't move otherwise. She's staring at me. For so long I grow a little uncomfortable. "Scully?"

"Mulder…" She finally looks away, licking her lips and straightening her hair, uncrosses her legs and re crosses them the other way under the table. "Of course we're ok."

"No, I know we're ok. Ok, Maybe I'm asking if we're ok as more than partners." I'm watching her watch me out of the corner of her eye, her eyes fixed on the door like she might jump up and escape. "I know I've put you through a lot, as my partner and my friend. I…I told you how much I need you, then I…I didn't exactly act as if that were…" Shit, what am I trying to say? I have forgotten what I wanted to say to her.

"Mulder…" She looks down at her wine glass, resting her finger on the rim of it, shaking her head in a dismissive manner. She wants me to drop it. Like the Saint she is, she has already forgiven me, but that's not enough.

I reach out and rest my hand over her other hand, on the table, making sure I have her attention. Her eyes dart to our hands. "Scully, I've been an ass, I know that. I did, I still do consider Diana a friend." Her eyes darken, I can practically see her breath quicken. I smirk, "but you…you mean a lot too." My thumb is absentmindedly stroking the top of hers, she bites the inside her lips, still watching our hands. Still looking like she might run away. "I just come so close to losing you, sometimes. I don't know how to act. I guess I thought, maybe, if you hated my guts…you'd leave on your own?" I smirk, yet again, she looks certifiably confused and maybe even a little hurt. "I know that doesn't make sense, it's the only thing I can figure. Just…look, ok? I can't justify or defend a lot of the things I've said and done this last year." I reach out and put only my index finger on her chin and she looks at me reluctantly. "I just want you to know that you mean a lot to me. I don't deserve you but I can't give you up either. I don't want to lose you to this…this, pursuit of mine…but it's a risk I have to take. 'Cause I need you. Not only because you make a kick-ass partner, but because…take away everything else, take away the job and the conspiracies…you're still my best friend." I smile at the tears in her eyes, knowing she's heard my words, knowing they mean something to her. "Happy birthday, Scully."

* * *

"When here in my mind  
I feel inclined  
To wrongly treat you unkind  
I have faith I will find  
The mercy in you

I would lose my way again  
Be led hopelessly astray again  
Just so I could pray again  
For the mercy in you

When here in my mind  
I have been blind  
Emotionally behind  
I have faith I will find  
The mercy in you"

Depeche Mode-Mercy In You

Yes, more Depeche Mode. The songs keep popping in my head as I'm writing! :-)


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Is this seriously still necessary? Has anyone ever really been sued for Fan Fiction? All right, all right, here's my obligatory spiel: Not mine. It sucks. The end.

Rating: PG…13. Probably going to escalate.

Spoilers: Heavy Fowley spoilers. The End/The Beginning, Two Fathers/One Son. Also FTF. Post-Agua Mala.

Author's Notes: I do have ideas for more, a tiny bit written. Though this could be an ending, I think I'll keep going. ;-)

Feedback: I stalk my email for feedback harder than I stalked David Duchovny last year.

* * *

I am leaning against a wall, watching the door, waiting on Scully to get here. I've been waiting about 15 minutes, checking my watch constantly. She sounded so disappointed on the phone, more than I imagined. I don't even know how I managed to get her to agree to meet me, under the pretenses of work, when she was so set on having her birthday off. I have always, in a way, been able to manipulate her in that way. Was I always proud of it? No, of course not. But that never stopped me. Selfish tool that I am. Perhaps I can take one small step towards making up for that today.

Finally, she walks in and I watch her for a few moments. She's looking around, pulling out her phone to call me. She's done as I suggested, dressed warm and casual. She is wearing a dark gray woven wool sweater, black jeans and her black leather boots. Over it all, she wears a black knee length jacket. She is straightening her hair as she looks down at her phone. I sometimes watch her when she thinks no one is looking. Her face relaxed, soft, not hardened to the world. Her unconventionally pretty, imperfect mouth relaxed and parted just open as she concentrates on dialing the phone. 'I do not gaze at Scully.'

I roll my eyes and whistle at her, over a few groups of people with rowdy kids. She snaps her head to me and makes her way through the crowd, nearly scowling.

She finally makes it to me. "Don't these kids go to school?" She reaches a hand out to examine the wounds on my neck, standing on her toes. She pulls the bandage away enough to see under it before I swat her away, turning my head away from her.

I reach next to me, retrieving something to hand to her. "The girl at the counter said they're having some kind of home school day out or something."

"Ah…" She looks down at the mini golf putter I'm extending to her. "Is that a murder weapon, Mulder? Where are your gloves?"

"No latex required, Scully. We're going to play."

"You're kidding."

"No, check this one out." I'm still holding it out in front of her. "About your size?"

"Mulder…" Her arms are crossed, her back arching away from me as if I'm holding out a can of worms, a scowl on her lips.

"Happy birthday, Scully." Her eyes jump from the putter in my hand to my eyes. I watch her lips twitch from that scowl to suppressing a smile as she blinks a few times. "Come on. I know it's not the thirty fifth birthday you always dreamt of, but I did put some thought into it."

"You did, huh?" She takes the putter from my hands and examines it with a skeptical eye, before giving me an equally skeptic look.

"See, I tried to think of something with minimal distraction." She looks at all the kids around us. "Where would I ever find a conspiracy here?"

"Didn't I once tell you that you could find a conspiracy in the desert?"

"No, you told me I would try to find the Truth in the desert if someone told me it was out there."

"I stand corrected…"

"Anyway," I pull two balls out of my jacket pocket. "I won't even crack a joke about my balls." I smirk. "Take your pick."

She gives me a classic Scully glare. Isn't she aware by now that I know she is hiding her amusement? She picks the red ball, leaving me with the blue one. She takes the score sheet that I've just pulled out of my pocket, examining it. "Nine holes only."

"Scully! I paid for all 18."

"Nine. It's gotten colder out here," she says as we walk outside. It has actually, there are clouds coming in and it's gotten windy.

"Ok, nine. And then dinner."

"Did you pay for the whole pizza party?" She deadpans. "I hope you invited ALL of my friends."

I squint at her, "You first, birthday girl."

A while later, we're on the last one. I putt my ball into the ninth hole and pull out the score sheet…"Ok…ooh, that's one under par on this one." I smile up at her. "And I finished in 3 strokes less than you, Scully."

"Wonderful." Fortunately, Scully doesn't mind losing. I get the impression she would rather lose than have someone let her win.

"You're getting better though, sure you don't want to finish?"

"No, Mulder. Thank you, but I'm cold." She's rubbing her hands together and looking up at the sky, at the gray clouds continuing to fill the sky.

I take her putter and ball, ushering her back inside. "Hungry? I saw an Italian restaurant a few blocks up, we can walk to it?" I can see her weighing it in her mind, no doubt considering just going home and taking a warm bath before getting ready for work tomorrow. "Come on, birthday girl, it's on me."

She suppresses a smile while I turn in our putters and balls. "Sure, fine…let's go."

We walk up the street in silence. When we walk inside, I look around. This is a little more fancy than I anticipated. I look around and look down at my attire. There may be a dress code. I happened to wear a blazer type jacket over my sweater, so I may just pass muster. I walk to the little man at the podium just inside the door. I am tempted to call him Jeeves. "Hey…table for two?"

He looks down his nose at me, first taking in the bandage on my neck, then my outfit. I gather he supposes my threads will do on a slow Tuesday night. "This way…sir"

He leads us to a table in the back. After he seats Scully and gives me another look down his nose, he walks away. I lean over her with a hand on the back of her chair. "Be right back."

I go to the bathroom and pull the bandage away from my neck. I examine a few of the wounds where a tentacle had reached out and wrapped around my neck. They are certainly still noticeable, but not nearly as unattractive as the bandage wrapped around my neck. I remove the bandage and discard it.

When I return to the table, I notice Jeeves had set my place next to hers. This was not our customary seating arrangement, I across form her. I sit down and place my napkin over my lap. "This is rather fancy shmancy, eh, Scully?" This is more of a 'date' setting than I anticipated, candles on the tables and all.

She is leaning over, touching my neck tentatively. "Are you applying that ointment I gave you?"

I swat her away again. "Would you stop?"

She dodges my hand, turning my chin to look at the other side. "It looks ok. Probably best you took the bandage off."

I lean away from her, grab her hand and push it towards her. "Ok, Doc. Leave it." I duck my head, catching her eyes, making sure she understands before I let go of her hand. "All right…let's order wine, birthday girl." I pick up the little wine menu. "Red or white?" She looks hesitant. "Come on, Scully, don't make me choose."

Small hint of a smile. "Red."

A while later, we have ordered and received our food. We are eating in our customary silence, especially since there is no case to talk about. I watch her for a few moments, she doesn't notice me. She chews and swallows a bit of her pasta, dabs her napkin at the edge of her mouth. She clears her throat and sips her wine, her blue eyes observing other couples in the restaurant over her wine glass. I do gaze at Scully. "Hey, Scully…" I clear my own throat and take a sip of wine before I grab the bottle and top both of us off. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

Her eyebrows raise in question with her fork in her mouth, taking a bite of her pasta. When she's managed to chew her food enough, she asks, "About…?"

"Well, I uh…I know we've been through a lot lately. I just uh, I wanted to make sure everything is ok. Are you ok? Are we ok? As uh…as partners, I mean." She slowly places her fork down on her plate, but doesn't move otherwise. She's staring at me. For so long I grow a little uncomfortable. "Scully?"

"Mulder…" She finally looks away, licking her lips and straightening her hair, uncrosses her legs and re crosses them the other way under the table. "Of course we're ok."

"No, I know we're ok. Ok, Maybe I'm asking if we're ok as more than partners." I'm watching her watch me out of the corner of her eye, her eyes fixed on the door like she might jump up and escape. "I know I've put you through a lot, as my partner and my friend. I…I told you how much I need you, then I…I didn't exactly act as if that were…" Shit, what am I trying to say? I have forgotten what I wanted to say to her.

"Mulder…" She looks down at her wine glass, resting her finger on the rim of it, shaking her head in a dismissive manner. She wants me to drop it. Like the Saint she is, she has already forgiven me, but that's not enough.

I reach out and rest my hand over her other hand, on the table, making sure I have her attention. Her eyes dart to our hands. "Scully, I've been an ass, I know that. I did, I still do consider Diana a friend." Her eyes darken, I can practically see her breath quicken. I smirk, "but you…you mean a lot too." My thumb is absentmindedly stroking the top of hers, she bites the inside her lips, still watching our hands. Still looking like she might run away. "I just come so close to losing you, sometimes. I don't know how to act. I guess I thought, maybe, if you hated my guts…you'd leave on your own?" I smirk, yet again, she looks certifiably confused and maybe even a little hurt. "I know that doesn't make sense, it's the only thing I can figure. Just…look, ok? I can't justify or defend a lot of the things I've said and done this last year." I reach out and put only my index finger on her chin and she looks at me reluctantly. "I just want you to know that you mean a lot to me. I don't deserve you but I can't give you up either. I don't want to lose you to this…this, pursuit of mine…but it's a risk I have to take. 'Cause I need you. Not only because you make a kick-ass partner, but because…take away everything else, take away the job and the conspiracies…you're still my best friend." I smile at the tears in her eyes, knowing she's heard my words, knowing they mean something to her. "Happy birthday, Scully."

* * *

"When here in my mind  
I feel inclined  
To wrongly treat you unkind  
I have faith I will find  
The mercy in you

I would lose my way again  
Be led hopelessly astray again  
Just so I could pray again  
For the mercy in you

When here in my mind  
I have been blind  
Emotionally behind  
I have faith I will find  
The mercy in you"

Depeche Mode-Mercy In You

Yes, more Depeche Mode. The songs keep popping in my head as I'm writing! :-)


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Is this seriously still necessary? Has anyone ever really been sued for Fan Fiction? All right, all right, here's my obligatory spiel: Not mine. It sucks. The end.

Rating: PG…13. Probably going to escalate.

Spoilers: Post-Agua Mala.

Author's Notes: Fireworks!

Feedback: I stalk my email for feedback harder than I stalked David Duchovny last year.

* * *

I watch her slowly walk away from me, towards the cab. She is really about to leave. I wonder if it would work for me like it did in the old movies if I grabbed her and kissed her, out there on the sidewalk in the rain. I knew I wanted to, I knew it. I didn't know it before yesterday in the office, not like I know it now. Now that I know I want it, it is going to be a difficult thing to ignore. She turns back and looks at me. I know it's written all over my face. And I know that she can read my face better, more thoroughly than any lab report or case file in a split second. I watch her hesitate, look both ways. When she asks if I want to go to her place, I gulp. Was this it? Would this really happen?

I slowly walk towards her, feeling as if my head might float away like a balloon. She gets in and scoots to the other side, giving the driver her address. I close the door and put my hands on my knees. Neither of us move for maybe five minutes. I feel like I did when I was about to kiss a girl for the first time. I hadn't felt like this since that time, but I felt it now. Palms sweaty, heart racing. Finally, I look over at her. I know she knows I'm looking at her, turns her head to look out the other window. I study her profile in the momentary light we get every time we pass under a streetlight. She still has little beads of water in her hair from the rain. I have noticed her beauty before, but never like in this moment. I'm suddenly struck by it. The curve of her forehead to her perfect eyebrows. The small amount of eye shadow and mascara she applied doesn't add to, only complements her beauty. I study her high cheek bones, her small, delicate nose. The way her upper lip is fuller than her bottom one, possibly because of her slight overbite. Her strong, but not overly pronounced chin. Her beauty, that I've never taken in all at once before, only has me more nervous than before. Her features could easily be painted onto an angel and hung in a church.

We pull up in front of her place and both get out our wallets, getting together enough money to pay for the ride. I hand it to the driver and take her hand before she has a chance to get out of her side. I pull her through and out onto the sidewalk. I turn to her, standing directly in front of her as the cab drives off. I still have her hand in mine. She is looking at my chest, avoiding my eyes. I move two fingers under her chin to raise her eyes to mine. Her face is usually stoic and hard to read, but after so many years together I can read her eyes. Even without looking directly into them now, I know she is unsure and even a little afraid of what is happening. For all my nervousness, she's got walls to bring down. "Scully…"

We both look up as just then, big fat raindrops start to fall increasingly faster, they are ice cold. She drops my hand and takes off for the door, covering her head and laughing. I smirk and follow her inside.

She steps inside her apartment, going right for the kitchen and grabbing a dish towel as I close and lock the door behind me. She turns on the kitchen light, but no others, and grabs a dish towel. She wipes her face off, her hair as best she can and knocks some raindrops off of the sleeves of her jacket as she walks towards me. She offers me the now damp dish towel and I accept. I brush some of the rain out of my hair with my fingers before wiping up where it drips down my face, drying my neck and ears also. I hold it in my hands and watch her remove her coat and hang it up. She is standing there in front of the wall and turns her head to look at me out of the corner of the eye.

I'm nervously playing with the dishtowel in my hands. We stand there like that for several quiet moments, listening to the rain hit her windows. 'Now or never,' I think. We've got to get this out of the way. I don't know about her, but as for me, if we don't, the curiosity will kill me-or at least make work very difficult. "I'm going to kiss you, Scully."

I see her take a deep breath, standing up a little straighter, still looking at me over her shoulder. I move toward her, not seeing anywhere immediately convenient to place the dish towel. I just drop it on the floor. I make it over to her and turn her around with one hand on her upper arm. Once she is facing me I put both hands on her upper arms, looking down at her. She is looking at my chest, trying to slow her breathing through her nose. I can't help but smirk a little bit at how we're both treating this, but I guess after so many years together this would be awkward, if not a little terrifying. "Look at me," I tell her.

She does, with wide eyes. I read her eyes once again. I see her reservations, her fear, her nervousness. But I'm looking for…yes, there. I saw that flicker of heat. The tiniest hint that she wants this too.

I am holding onto her upper arms, rubbing my thumbs over the wool of her sweater. I very slowly move my hands up her arms, over her shoulders, keeping my eyes on hers. I move my hands up her neck, then very softly rest my hands on both sides of her face. I start with my fingers at her forehead, then her temples and down her cheeks before I push my fingers back into her hair, under her ears, my fingers wrapping around her neck. My thumbs end up on her cheek bones, stroking gently. I glance at her parted lips, then back into her eyes. I swear I feel the temperature rise ten degrees.

She is breathing so quickly, her chest is rising and falling from the effort. As I very slowly lean into her, she moves her hands to my wrists, holding onto them. I rest my forehead against hers just a moment before I think we've really done enough of the intimate but restrained forehead action in our days. I want more. I put my face right up to hers, I nuzzle her nose softly with mine, my fingers tightening around her neck a little.

I move my right hand to the back of her neck, feeling down into her collar, giving her a little shiver. "Just checking for stinging insects."

She lets out a huff of breath, a throaty laugh against my lips. "Mulder…"

"I had to check." I smile, returning my hand to the side of her face, nuzzling her nose once more.

She pushes my sweater and jacket sleeves up my wrists, then returns her hands to my wrists, skin on skin. "I should have taken your jacket…"

I tighten my grip on her neck when she starts to pull away, holding her face to mine. "No…Scully. No more distractions." I brush my upper lip against hers, breathing in her breath. It smells like the drink she had, like fruit juice. I want to taste it.

But I am frozen in the moment. I stand there so long my back starts to hurt, so tense. Then she tilts her head back, stands on her toes and mumbles "Mulder" against my lips and I come undone. I pull back to look at her one more time. Her eyes are nearly closed, asking for it. Wanting it just as much as I do. I close my eyes and press my lips against hers, holding her tightly to me with my fingers on the back of her skull. We stay like that for a moment, I'm taking in the new sensation of her warm lips on mine. We're both practically panting out of our noses. Finally, she parts her lips, just enough. I feel her inviting me inside. I slide my tongue between them, pausing just long enough to taste her upper lip, I've been picturing doing that all night. But her tongue meets and brushes against mine and I'm done for. I'm holding her face against mine with crushing force, her back is arching as I lean her head back farther. I feel my knees go weak and my ears are ringing as our tongues move together.

It is not necessarily the most erotic kiss I've ever had, but it is certainly the best. I am holding the only person on Earth who I couldn't live without since I lost my sister so many years ago. She has saved my ass time and time again. Lied for me, stolen for me. Been to hell and back more than once. Been by my side through it all, taken everything I'd put her through and still somehow wanted to be right here, sharing this moment with me.

Suddenly the thought of it is just too much to take along with the sensation, and I have to pull away and look down at her. Our chests are both rising and falling as we catch our breath. The fear is gone from her wide eyes, replaced with pure wonder. I imagine I have pretty much the same look. "Wow…" I whisper.

"Yeah," she whispers back, her forehead wrinkling just a little. My Scully is doubting if that is what she really felt, skeptical that a feeling like this could be real. I smirk, I feel like laughing, I wouldn't have it any other way from her. I stroke her cheek once before moving my left hand down between her arms that are still holding on to my wrists. I move my hand around her waist then up her back, holding her closer to me with my hand between her shoulders as I pull her face close to mine again.

I kiss her more deeply than before, pushing her to arch her back farther, supporting her with that hand between her shoulders and my other at the back of her head. She wraps her arms around my neck, holding on. It seems the earth is fading away around me, and this is where I want to spend the rest of my life. Government conspiracies and the search for my sister and alien life don't completely fade away, but collapse into a tiny little pinpoint in the back of my head. I feel more at peace than I have in 25 years.

When my back begins to protest a little, I stand up straighter and wrap my arms around her, lifting her feet up an inch off the ground while I hold her chest to mine. She has one hand on the back of my head now, running her fingers through my hair as we continue to explore each other's mouth. I kiss her until I just can't breathe anymore and place her feet back down on the floor. I move my hands back to the side of her face, looking at her eyes again. "God damn, Scully." I am shaking my head a little, just completely amazed at how she amazes me. "I can't do this tonight."

Her eyes were reflecting the emotions in mine until that came out all wrong. The fear and doubt returns in an instant, her eyes darkening with hurt. "Mul-"

"No! Good God Scully!" I kiss her forehead, holding my lips there for a long moment, brushing them lightly down her nose, then back up between her eyes to kiss her there once more. "I want to," I hear a growl escape my throat and my voice goes lower. "God, how I want to…" I sigh against her skin before pulling back to look at her again. She looks a lot less afraid, but still pretty confused. "We're gonna do this right. I'm gonna take my time…I'm just…I'm drunk right now…from the alcohol, from you…I just want to get my head on straight." I know I'm grinning like an idiot.

I guess it might be a little infectious because she's grinning at me a little mischievously. "You think next time will be any different?" One of her eyebrows twitch up and the look on her face turns me on in a whole new way.

"Ahh, Scully. Not drunk. No, we're gonna do this right," I repeat. "I don't know when, but you're mine now." She bites her lip, nodding, all of her doubt is gone once again. I kiss her forehead, then her lips once more, barely brushing my lips over hers. "I'm gonna go," I mumble against her lips.

"Ok…" She mumbles back. I smell that fruity drink on her breath once again. Hurricane indeed, I felt like one was blowing around in my head.

I finally back away from her, leave her standing there. I back up to the door, once again grinning like an idiot. I unlock the door and grin more widely. "Bye, Scully. See you at work tomorrow?"

She nods and licks her swollen lips before biting her bottom one, her hands nervously twitching at her sides. She smiles at me with her lip between her teeth. "Bye, Mulder."

* * *

OMG right? Sorry, these two just weren't ready yet. It's still percolating! No, seriously. I couldn't help it. It's coming, promise. Though, I do think this was hotter than SOME of the smut I've written. To be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Is this seriously still necessary? Has anyone ever really been sued for Fan Fiction? All right, all right, here's my obligatory spiel: Not mine. It sucks. The end.

Rating: PG…13. GOING to escalate.

Spoilers: Post-Agua Mala.

Author's Notes: I did NOT intend for it to go this long, but, this idea I got going popped in my head and I'm going with it. I know, I'm being a cocktease with the smut. *eg*

Feedback: I stalk my email for feedback harder than I stalked David Duchovny last year.

* * *

The 'beep, beep, beep' of the alarm clock pisses me off. It should be against the law to have to wake up before the sun. I slap the snooze button, rolling over and groaning. I hold my pounding head and try to ignore the urge to pee so I can get a few more minutes of sleep. I am snuggling back into the blankets when I smile widely, remembering what happened last night. I am holding the blanket over my mouth, remembering everything about my birthday. The stupid mini golf, the better dinner. Stopping by that bar and then…God that kiss. Those kisses. I close my eyes again and brush my lips against the blanket in my hands, just remembering. I WAS drunk, so I can't remember every detail, but I remember the way it made me feel.

I no longer have any questions or doubts, Mulder and I would be together. And of course, if he walked in here right now to take me, I wouldn't object. But it would be nice to take our time, maybe go out again, on an actual date under the pretense of a date. If he would ask me, that is. I smirk, trying to picture Mulder doing just that.

I close my eyes and sigh when my alarm goes off again, wanting to lay here in this feeling for a while longer. Then I smile when I realize, the sooner I get to work, the sooner I'll see him. I shake my head as I turn off my alarm. 'Look at you, Dana. It's just Mulder.' I try to put on my grown up work face on my way to the bathroom, but smile again when I remember him lifting me off of the floor, holding me as we kissed.

While I'm brushing my teeth, I feel a little pain in the back of my throat. Not good…I hope it is just some drainage, or maybe it's because that bar was so smoky last night. I shower, and while I am picking out my clothes I hear a knock at the door. I look over at my clock. It's still pretty early, I woke up early enough to catch a cab to my car and still make it in on time.

I look though my peep hole and make sure it's the only person who ever knocks on my door unexpectedly. I open the door, still in my robe with a towel on my head.

Neither of us say anything, he's just standing there in his nicest looking suit, my favorite tie of his, his hair has gel in it but it's just a little more messy than usual. Both of us are trying to keep a straight face, but I feel my cheeks flush when I see that fire in his eyes I saw on the sidewalk last night. He smiles a little when he sees my cheeks flush. I bite my lip and he takes a step toward me. He snakes his hand around my waist and places it on the small of my back, pulling me into him. He surprises me by unwrapping the towel from my head, tossing it aside, straightening my hair out a little. He ducks down and puts his nose on my hair, taking in a whiff before moving his fingers into it, tilting my head back and kissing me. It's a closed mouth but still pretty intense kiss, then he smells my hair again. "Mmm. You smell good. Morning, Scully."

My hands have found their way around his waist, and I turn my head to rest it on his chest, somehow we are standing there hugging now. He rests his chin on top of my head and squeezes me a little tighter before I return his greeting. "Morning, Mulder. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I got home and passed out last night, then woke up this morning at 3. Just happy as a clam, unable to sleep any longer. So I decided I'd get up early, catch a cab to my car, go pick up my kick-ass partner and give her a ride to her car before she caught a cab to it herself."

I'm smiling into his chest despite myself. "Thank you, Mulder."

"Mmhmm…you need to go get ready."

"You need to let me go."

"Uh-uh…" He is smelling my hair again, then he mumbles into it. "I forget, you're short without shoes on."

I pull back to look up at him, laughing and pushing him away. "Maybe I will take that cab," I say as I pick up the towel, going for the bedroom.

He shuts the door, going to raid my kitchen without invitation.

I go to my bedroom and leave the door open a crack while I get ready. I am blow drying my hair in the mirror, so I don't even hear or see him standing in the door of my bathroom, eating a bowl of cereal and watching me.

"How do you eat this crap every day, Scully?" He's almost yelling over the noise.

I jump and turn to him, instinctively ready to use my hairdryer as a weapon for a split second. "Jesus, Mulder!"

He's grinning. Suppressing my own smile, I push him out the door, back to the living room. "You better wash that bowl when you're through."

xxxxx

A while later we are at work. It is late morning and I am just getting back into the office with a few reports from the lab. We had them run tests on several samples we brought back from Florida. I am leaning on his desk, next to his chair. He has backed his chair away from the desk some so he can look up at me. His arms are crossed as I go over the results with him, pretty much translating the data to English. He nods after I've pretty much concluded and takes one of the lab reports from me. He looks over it.

"What is this here?" I explain in detail what that particular test was and that it yielded no results that were important to our case, taking about 30 seconds to explain. "Ok." He looks it over again. "And this?" I pause and look at him a moment before looking at where he's pointing, thinking he normally doesn't ask much else after these reports come in. He just lets me file them away. But I appease him and describe what that particular result meant, taking a bit longer to explain.

I look up at him, mid-sentence "…enzymes…enzymes in the…you're just getting off on watching me talk, aren't you?"

He mocks surprise, straightening his tie and then throwing his hands up in the air. "No, no! I was genuinely curious about the enzymes."

"I call bullshit, Mulder."

His eyes go wide, unable to suppress his laughter. "Wow, Scully, the language!"

He moves closer to me, his hand reaches out and tentatively moves my skirt. Touching the top of my calf, right under the inside of my knee with his right hand. He is leaning back with his left elbow on his armrest, his fingers resting on his mouth. He's gazing up at me with those eyes.

I stare at him a long moment. He quickly reaches up and grabs the back of my head, pulling my face toward his. "Mul-" I manage to get out before I drop the files. i nearly trip over my own feet to turn toward him as he pulls me down and now my mouth is on his. I am holding my hands in the air between us, my fingers balling into fists. His tongue brushes against my lip and I get a brief image of riding him in that chair in my mind's eye. I shake my head and put my hands on both sides of his face, pushing him away. I kneel down, picking up the files. "Let's go to lunch, Mulder."

"Yeah," he says and clears his throat.

A few minutes later we are walking down the sidewalk, towards one of our regular spots a couple of blocks away from the Hoover Building. I look at him as we're walking. "Not at work, Mulder. Not ever."

"Yeah, OK. " He's looking like the cat that ate the canary.

I smirk. "I'm not kidding, Mulder. Never. Not ever."

"All right, all right. You're right. I just couldn't help it."

"You think it's going to get any easier?" My turn to look like the cat that ate the canary.

"Oh, Scully." I've got him, he's looking at me with a gleam in his eye as he holds the restaurant door open and I walk past, grinning.

As we walk to our regular booth at the diner style restaurant, I sneeze about five times in a row. As we sit down I grab the napkin and hold it under my nose, feeling like I'm not through.

"You all right?"

"Uhh…I don't know." I decide my sneezing fit is done so I wipe my nose, then scratch it, but it won't stop tickling. Neither will the back of my throat, my eyes are completely watered up. "I uh…I had a sore throat this morning but it passed pretty quickly. I thought it might have been from the smoke in the bar last night. But, uh. I don't know, maybe it's allergies." I was just outside after all.

After blowing my nose in not the most lady-like way, he says. "Oh, Scully, that's really beautiful." He's half amused, half grossed out.

I squint at him over the napkin, smiling under it. The waitress comes over, asking if we want the usual. "No Betty, I'll have a hot tea with lemon."

"Oh, hun, do you have that crud that's going around?"

I glare over at Mulder, sitting back with his elbows resting on the back of the booth. I never told him but he just knows I hate her calling me 'hun.' "Is there a cold going around?" I say with dread.

"Yeaaah, baby girl, you shouldn't be at work! Why are you making her come to work Mr. Mulder, you couldn't handle things all by yourself?"

Mulder is laughing, I know he's laughing at her calling me 'baby girl,' that is a completely new one that must have come out of concern. Betty is an older lady from the south, so I tolerate her names.

"No, actually, I couldn't. I was just telling her yesterday how kick-ass she is and how I couldn't do it without her."

"Well, look at you, Mr. Mulder!" She pats him on the shoulder, nearly looking like she's about to pinch his cheek. My turn to sit back and smile. Until I enter into another sneezing fit, that is. I sneeze into my napkin another 3 or 4 times. "Oh, bless your heart. Let me get you that tea. You want your regular Mr. Mulder?" She's asking over her shoulder as she runs behind the counter to make my tea.

"Yes ma'am." I am finishing up with my sneezing fit, smiling at him under my napkin. The first time we had met Betty, she glared him down when he had said 'yeah' to her. Glared him down until he said 'yes ma'am' questioningly and she had smiled. "You gonna make it, hun?" He's laughing even as he says it.

I squint harder at him as I blow my nose again. "Uggh…I think she's right Mulder. This isn't allergies." I'm completely congested all of a sudden.

Betty sets down our drinks, Mulder's iced tea and my hot tea before running off to help another table.

"Not allergies…good to know you're not allergic to me." He raises his eyebrows, removing his straw to chew on before taking a sip. I can't even find the energy to be amused, then act like I'm not amused at that. I prop my head up on my hand, looking down sadly at my tea as I move the tea bag around. "Seriously, are you gonna make it?"

I look at him, feeling my bottom lip poke out. "I will drink this and see…but, I feel feverish, Mulder."

He reaches out and feels my forehead, then my cheek. "Yeah, I think you are."

I sigh, I made it through the whole winter without getting sick, almost. Betty sets down Mulder's sandwich in front of him, he thanks her, and she wanders off, looking at me with pity. Right before he's about to pick up his sandwich, I say, "Stop." He looks up at me with his hands hovering above his sandwich. "Go wash your hands."

He's laughing, about to pick up his sandwich again. "But Scully, we-"

"Go, Mulder." He sighs and pushes out of his seat, much like a child. I smile at him, despite feeling like crap.

I am driving home an hour later, I left immediately after we made it back to the office and I retrieved my things. Drugs and my bed, that's what I need.

xxxxx

I wake a few hours later to Mulder stroking my hair away from my face. I sit up in bed, pushing his hand away, looking around in confusion. I'm unsure what day it is, in a cold sweat. I finally remember when and where a am, then I look at him with a sad face. I was freezing earlier, and now I'm a big sweaty mess from bundling up under three blankets.

"Come on…" He lifts one of the blankets off of the bed, holding it open for me. "I let myself in…I brought you soup."

I groan, climbing out of the bed. He puts the blanket over my shoulders and tries to lead me to the living room, but I stop and go to my nightstand, breaking some pills out of a blister pack and taking them with a big gulp of water.

He tries to lead me to the couch again but I veer off to the bathroom, needing to use it. I thank him, through a sneezing fit with a Kleenex to my nose, for waiting outside of the bathroom with the blanket. I finally let him lead me to the living room. On the coffee table he's got a to go container of soup, still steaming hot, and a bottle of red Gatorade. He knows I only drink the red one.

I don't taste the soup, or the Gatorade, so I guess the color didn't matter.

The next thing I am aware of is him carrying me back to bed, asking me how many blankets I want, I settle on two this time, curling up again. "Bye, Scully…I'll tell Skinner you'll be out tomorrow too, ok?" He's pulling my hair back away from my face.

I cough and nod. "Thank you, Mulder." I can't even look at him.

He kisses my cheek right before I fall back to sleep.

xxxxx

The next day, I am able to move around a little, but get tired very quickly. I manage to get a shower, eat a few crackers and leftover chicken soup I found in the fridge. I curl up on the couch and fall asleep again.

I wake to him, the same way as yesterday, completely confused. "Just me," he mumbles, feeling my forehead. He hands me the thermometer I left laying on the coffee table. I sit up and take my temperature.

"It's going down…I'm ok. I just need more rest…"

He cares for me in much the same way as the day before.

xxxxx

I wake the next day, Friday, in my bed feeling much better. I look at my nightstand, every thing I need is right there. Kleenex, medicine, Gatorade, water, thermometer. I smile, going for the water and pills. I take my temperature and am relived to find it back to normal. I still have to blow my nose, still have a cough, but I am over the worst of it. The chills are gone with the fever.

A few hours later, I am on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and reading a book. He notices me as he's shutting the door. "Hey, you're up. How you feeling?" He walks over to me, feeling my head. I turn my face into a hand a little, actually enjoying the contact now that I'm not miserable. He lets his hand linger on my face for a moment, even after he notices the fever is gone.

"A lot better, still weak, a little stuffy. But my eyes don't feel like they're cooking in their sockets anymore."

"Seriously? Yeah, you were pretty bad off."

"Want to sit down?" He takes off his coat and suit jacket. I almost say something when he tosses them over my arm chair, but forgive him this time. He did see me through this. He moves and sits down at the other end of the couch, stretching his arm against the back of it. He leans back and sighs, looking over at me. I smile and scoot my toes up under his leg, between it and the couch. My toes were cold even through thick socks and a blanket. I smile my thanks as he mock protests. "Long day?"

"Yeah," He's looking at me with his head rolled to the side, nearly resting it on his shoulder.

"Anything happen?"

"No…not a thing. All is quiet in the world of the paranormal."

"That's paranormal in and of itself."

We share a smile before he sighs and closes his eyes. "Ahh, this is nice, Scully." He rests his hand on my bent knee.

"Yeah," I agree.

"I didn't bring you soup. Wanted to make sure you weren't up for something solid. Chinese?"

"Yes!" I say, feeling an appetite for the first time in days. He leans forward to get his cell out of his pocket before he has a sneeze attack. "Oh no…guess it's your turn." I reach behind me and offer him the box of Kleenex."

* * *

To be continued...Thanks to those of you sticking in there. Not the hottest chapter I know, but it's setting the stage for an idea I got stewing.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Is this seriously still necessary? Has anyone ever really been sued for Fan Fiction? All right, all right, here's my obligatory spiel: Not mine. It sucks. The end.

Rating: PG-ish. I'm getting there, hold your horses. Next chapter ;-)

Spoilers: Between Agua Mala and Monday.

Author's Notes: This is a shout out to all y'all that are reading & reviewing. Y'all are my…like, 10 in 5 billion.

Feedback: I stalk my email for feedback harder than I stalked David Duchovny last year.

* * *

The cold had knocked me down just as fast as it had Scully. She had ordered me wonton soup with her Chinese, made sure I ate and put me to bed. I wake now, in her bed, late at night. I move the blanket off of me, groaning with the effort of moving. I sit on the edge of the bed, looking down. I'm in an old FBI academy sweatshirt, too large for it to have originally been hers. It was Jack Willis' no doubt. I'm in that sweatshirt and my boxers. I close my eyes, still sitting up, just wanting to go back to sleep but the urge to go to the bathroom keeps me from doing so.

When I come out of her bathroom she is standing by the nightstand, picking up tissues by two fingers with minimal contact. "You know, Mulder, you can use these things more than once." She is tsking at the size of the pile I've left on her night stand."

I cough a few times and sit on the edge of her bed. "Aw, Scully, you're gonna rag on me? I'm sick." I lay my head on the pillow and look at her dramatically.

She smirks and scoops the rest of the Kleenexes into the trash can with a look on her face, trying not to touch any snot. "You're right, you were a very good caretaker to me the last few days." She touches my forehead, then my cheek with a cool hand and I close my eyes and sigh.

"I feel like shit, Scully. I got it worse than you, I know it. I'm dying."

She opens my hand, giving me two pills. "Sit up, take these."

She sits on the edge of the bed next to me, handing me a glass of water. I take them and go into another coughing fit, stretching out in her bed. I give her a dramatic look. "Cuddle with me, Scully."

I give the bed a little pat in front of me. She smirks and looks away from me, licking her lips with an uncharacteristically shy look. I reach out and tug at the sleeve on her sweat shirt.

She stands and pulls the sweat shirt over her head. She's wearing a long sleeve shirt underneath, so I don't see much,. Still, even through my haze, I appreciate the brief view of her stomach as that shirt raised above her belly button for a moment before falling back down.

She lays down next to me on her back. I'm happy enough and feverish enough not to care that this is still pretty new territory for us. "Very nice…" I move my hand to her rib cage, nuzzling her neck as I move one of my knees over her legs.

She tentatively rests her hand over mine on her side, closing her neck off to me like I'm tickling her, but she's laughing softly. "Mulder…"

"Scully…" I look down at her.

"Ew…Mulder, your breath stinks." She wrinkles her face and turns away from me.

I move my tongue around in my mouth to try and taste it. I don't taste a thing, being sick. "Then let me in here…" I nuzzle her neck again and she laughs, giving it a moment's thought before sighing and giving me access to her neck again. I move my nose to the crook of her neck and breathe in, trying to smell her but that only sends me into a coughing fit from trying to breath in through my congested nose. She moves away from me quickly, going for the Kleenex and handing me one, letting me cough and blow my nose. When I finally settle, she takes the Kleenex from me with two fingers, making a face and chunking it in the can next to her side of the bed. She turns off the lamp and curls up on her side.

"Come here, pretty lady." She giggles as I move my hand on her stomach, under her shirt, wanting to feel what I just got to see. I nuzzle up on her shoulder, settling in behind her. I feel feverish, almost drunk, enjoying holding her close. "When's the last time you had a man in your bed, Scully?" I'm nuzzling the back of her ear with my nose, I feel her shiver.

She sighs, thinking, turns and looks at me over her shoulder. "Oh, four years ago."

I think about it. "Who?" It's not *exactly* jealousy, mostly genuine curiosity.

She laughs low in her throat at my reaction. "You."

It takes a moment to occur to me. She means the time I had been drugged, my father had just been killed, she had stripped me down and left me to sleep in her bed.

"Before that." I nuzzle the skin behind her ear, sniffling, dying to smell her skin there.

"Mulder…" She turns her head into her pillow a little more, begging me to drop it.

"Scully…" I'm running my fingers back and forth, just barely scratching, more like petting the skin on her stomach.

"Mmm." She sighs, "Seven years, we'd just met."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"That's your bed…how about anybody else's?" She buries her face all the way into the pillow now. I move my hand around to her back, her tattoo is around here somewhere.

She arches her back, her bottom pushes back onto me in a very pleasant way. She gasps when I touch her again, and I file it away how sensitive she is to my touch right there. I leave it alone for now, though, resting my hand on her hip. She sighs. "Not him, either."

"Really?"

"Really, Mulder. I had dates, they just…didn't pan out."

"Ok, Scully." I'm smiling into her hair, settling in behind her, suddenly very sleepy. I'm also hoping she doesn't echo my questions back to me. I slept with someone, against better judgement, on a case while she was missing. If she asked me, I would tell her. But I would rather not right now. Fortunately, she doesn't before I drift off to sleep, holding her close.

xxxxx

The next day I feel ten times worse. She feeds me, has me brush my teeth and take a warm shower which I am barely able to stay standing for. I go out to her bedroom with a towel wrapped around my waist and am just about to climb back into bed in that when she comes in and stops me. She lays out some pajamas, explaining she went to my house last night to pick up some things. I think I thank her. She turns around and I dress. I know there's a pick up line for her in this somewhere, but I just can't conjure it up. Finally she gives me two cold pills, makes me drink the whole glass of water and has me lay back in the bed. She is drying my hair with the towel so I won't lay down with my hair too wet. It feels very soothing. I'm bundled up under the covers, shaking from chills.

"You'd make a good mother, Scully."

Her fingers stop massaging on the towel over my scalp. I take in a deep breath and let it out, wincing. She is still sitting back there, I have no idea what she is thinking as I can't see her face. "Scully…"

"I'm unable to have children, Mulder." her voice is heavy and thick.

"Scully…" I say again, my head spinning.

"I never told you, the tests, what they did to me, I was left barren."

"I know." She doesn't say anything for maybe a whole minute, pulling the towel away from my head. I can't look at her. I move my hand to my forehead, trying to keep the room still. I tell her of how I had been led to the facility where they were holding her ova, to be used for clones. Of me taking them to the doctor, finding they were not viable.

She pulls the blankets up around my shoulders, tucking me in. "Go to sleep, Mulder."

"Scully…" I mumble again.

"We'll talk about it later!" She's climbing out of the other side of the bed.

"No!" I turn around and lean across the bed to grab her hand. I squeeze her hand and rest my head on my other hand on the bed, feeling like utter shit, physically and emotionally. I cough a few times. "Scully, you were so…You were dying and I couldn't tell you. Then you got better and…and you go through enough, as it is. And I could just never find the time or the words to tell you and I'm so sorry." I make myself look at her and the look on her face breaks me. She's standing there by the bed, holding my hand, her eyes full of tears.

Still, she sees me laying there begging her to forgive me. "Oh, Mulder…" She takes a deep breath and gives in, as always. She nods and climbs back into bed, letting me pull her close and wrap my arms around her. I move my nose into her hair, wishing I could breathe in her scent.

"I'm sorry, Scully."

She sniffles and nods, I think I even feel her release one tiny sob before she settles down, wiping her tears against the pillow. Storing her grief wherever it is she keeps every other hardship. I try to stay awake, I want to talk about it and comfort her but I am just unable to keep my eyes open.

xxxxx

I wake up Sunday morning in Scully's bed. I am feeling much better. I go out to the living room after using the bathroom and brushing my teeth. I find her at her computer. She is only staring at the screen. She has one foot up on the chair, her arm wrapped around it, lost in thought. She jumps when I rest a hand on her shoulder.

She takes her glasses off and looks up at me. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you." I smooth down her hair as she nods, looking back at the computer. "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for that meeting tomorrow."

"Oh, that." I roll my eyes. I had spent every minute at work looking for something, anything paranormal to investigate the week before. But I couldn't find anything big enough for Skinner to allow us to leave town and miss the meeting. I had also thrown together my report last week, bored without Scully. "You look pretty well prepared."

"I still have work to do."

"Okay…" She puts her glasses back on, staring at the screen. "Does this have anything to do with that conversation we had yesterday?"

"Mulder…" She doesn't say anything for a few moments before she turns her head to me, where I stand behind her. She doesn't look up but, only turns toward me. She takes a deep breath and nods, "I just need some time."

I move my hand from her hair to the back of her chair, closing my eyes and turning my face toward the ceiling. Clenching my jaw, wondering if I've ruined this before it started. "Sure, Scully," I say through my clenched teeth.

She turns in her chair so she can put her hand over mine and look up at me. "Not like that, Mulder. I mean…" Her eyes are glistening just a little, she's unable to find the words. But she takes my hand and squeezes before looking down at our hands. "It's ok, it's not even you. It's about what they did to me. How they took them…*all* just to store them, and use them for…whatever. They never cease to…to shock me with their cruelty, their brutality." She's shaking her head. "It's just obscene and I just…can't right now. Do you understand Mulder?" She's looking up at me again.

I nod. "I think so…" Not really.

She turns my hand and pulls it to her face, closing her eyes and letting me stroke her cheek for a moment before looking at me once more. "I don't want that to taint this. Those bastards have cast enough darkness on my life. So just give me some time and we'll be fine."

I agree. She lets me hug her before I go home to get ready for the upcoming week. Right before I walk out the door, she grabs me again and kisses my forehead, telling me in a language I understand by now that it really will be ok. I give her a smile before walking out. I'm worried, but I will take her unspoken word on it.

* * *

Yikes, I know! I'd be pissed if someone left it here too. Does the promise smut help next chapter? Lots of kissing and touching and, yes, smelling! (Yay for Mulder.)


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Is this seriously still necessary? Has anyone ever really been sued for Fan Fiction? All right, all right, here's my obligatory spiel: Not mine. It sucks. The end.

Rating: Smutsylvania. NC-17 Land. Here be Smutsters. I made my own self blush several times writing this. Ye be warned.

Spoilers: This chapter is Post-Monday.

Author's Notes: Thanks for hanging in there.

Feedback: I stalk my email for feedback harder than I stalked David Duchovny last year.

* * *

"I think we should all be grateful that this situation didn't turn out as badly as it could have. Yes, a young lady lost her life, but somehow…," Skinner opens, then closes Mulder's report that's sitting in front of him on his desk, shaking his head. "You two may have saved a whole lot more lives. Everything looks in order." He picks up our reports and puts them on the corner of his desk for his secretary along with some other paperwork for her.

Mulder and I both stand, but Skinner says, "I didn't say you were dismissed." Mulder and I look at each other before sitting back down. Skinner stands up, sighs and removes his glasses. He rubs his face, pinching the bridge of his nose before clearing his throat and replacing his glasses. "You both took last Tuesday off, and I understand you were sick the rest of the week Agent Scully, however…your behavior yesterday," his gaze shifts from me to Mulder, "during that meeting was inexcusable. *Yes,* I know you may have saved lives, but you were late to begin with. And running a personal errand during a very important meeting! No, there is no excuse!" he says, cutting off Mulder when he starts to explain yet again. "I got my ass chewed out over you two, now it's your turn! You haven't even been on assignment in over a week, you had due time to be prepared for this meeting! You two just got reassigned to the X-files, and you're acting foolishly!" He's pacing, I can tell he is running out of words. I feel bad for him, actually. He's obligated to counsel us on the matter, but he knows there's more to the story than meets the eye. He takes off his glasses and pinches his nose again. While he's got his eyes closed I chance a glance at Mulder, who makes a completely silly, exaggerated 'yikes!' face at me. My hand flies up to my mouth as Skinner is opening his eyes, I have to wipe away my smirk and put a more serious face back on. Mulder can turn his face back to serious much easier than I. I can literally feel Mulder looking at me out of the corner of his eye as he looks at Skinner, proud that he got to me in here. "Would you two just get out of here? If you don't make it to this meeting next year, you'll be suspended without pay." He sits in his chair, rubbing his head.

"Yes sir." We both say and exit his office quickly to the hallway.

I walk ahead of Mulder, I won't even chance looking at him in the hallway. When we make it to the elevator he waits until everyone has exited to the lobby and for me to look at him before asking. "Think I oughta take him out for *his* birthday? He seems stressed."

I find that very hilarious, but I don't let on much. I don't miss a beat. "Or you can just hook him up with Agent Fowley. No, never mind. I actually like Skinner."

I watch his eyes go wide, he's pretty surprised. Now he squints at me, and I wonder if I crossed a line. Finally he smiles, giving me that look that's been filling my thoughts all morning.

After spending all day dealing with the incident at the bank yesterday, I had been tired and hadn't even thought about Mulder and I until we had separated for the day. After dealing with police, and Skinner, and everything else, I hadn't given much thought to what's been going on between us lately. Yes, Sunday I had needed some time to cope with what he had spilled during his fever. I was not angry with him, not at all. I wished he would have told me sooner, but I understood why he hadn't. It was simply another punch to the gut after dealing with blow after blow for the last several years it seemed. Emily had been heavy on my mind on Sunday, and I just needed to work through it in the best way I knew how. I had tried to let Mulder in, but was unsure how to lean on him. I was always aware of the fact that he was there if I needed him, I just didn't take him up on it.

Now we're standing here in the elevator, and he's looking at me with those eyes. The doors open to the basement and I smirk at him before walking down the hallway to our office. As soon as we make it inside, he starts gathering his things. "Cover for me, will you, Scully?"

"Wha-Mulder? We just got our asses handed to us by Skinner! Where are you going?"

"I gotta work on my place, I gotta take down the water bed frame. The contractors are going to be there in the morning to fix the damage. I can't pay anyone to clean up, paying for the damage has drained me. I don't want to have to dip into savings. Please, Scully?"

I sigh. "Mulder…"

"Just this afternoon. Promise." He gives me *the* grin.

I'm standing there with my arms crossed, staring him down. But I bend my knees and lean back a little, making an unhappy face back at him. "Fine…go."

"Thanks, Scully." And he's gone. I sigh and go over to his chair, sit down and spin around once before leaning back and putting my feet up, much like he would. I pick up one of his pencils and run it through my fingers before holding it up between both hands, observing the bite marks on it.

I hear his footsteps again and look up at the door where he's leaning in to talk to me quickly. He pauses and smiles, caught off guard by how I'm sitting. I raise my eyebrows at him, expecting him to give me some task to get done today. "Will you call me tonight?" He says hopefully, if not even a little shyly.

I mostly suppress my smile. "Yeah."

He doesn't suppress his grin, "Ok, See ya later."

xxxxx

I spend the day checking both of our emails for any leads, going through the neglected mail pile, filing things away. Often, I'm completely distracted by thoughts of my birthday, and lying in bed with him when he was sick.

When 5 o'clock finally comes, I lock up the office. I'm about to call him to see if he wants to meet for dinner but I decide on a better plan. I go home and change into jeans and a comfortable long sleeve shirt to work in. I bundle up in a coat and scarf and head to his place. I stop and grab us a sandwich to share from the deli on the way.

When I get there, I try the door and it's unlocked. I take off my coat, make my way to his bedroom and look inside. He's gotten a lot done. The mattress has been drained, and folded up as best can be. There's a few stacks of square mirrors next to that. I imagine he had to take those down one by one. He is up on a ladder, with his back to me, taking apart the top part of the frame that held the mirrors. He's got that half way done already, parts of it area already leaning against the wall behind him. He's wearing jeans, which I take only a moment to appreciate. Then he's got on a blue T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. I take a considerable amount of time longer to appreciate his arms.

"You own a ladder, Mulder?" I am almost all of the way under him now, but walk around in front of him, holding up the glass bottle of peach iced tea I got him at the deli.

He smiles and places the tool he was using on the top shelf of the ladder, taking the bottle from me. "No, I borrowed it from the super. 'Do I own a ladder?'" He exaggerates his sarcasm, twisting the cap off and taking a few big gulps. He descends the few steps to the floor, puts his drink down on one of the rungs then leans into me, going for a big hug.

"No!" I duck away from him, he's sweaty to the point of it soaking his shirt in places. He takes a big step, still acting like he's going to grab me. I take a big step back. "Mulder!"

He laughs and grabs his drink again, grabbing the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face. He dabs in a few places, his forehead, his nose. My eyes are drawn to his now exposed abs. He catches me and gives me *the* look.

I squint my eyes at him, "So, tell me about this waterbed."

He laughs, putting his hands up. "I really don't know…I don't know!" He repeats it at my skeptical look. "I *swear.* We went to Area 51 a couple months ago…" he raises his eyebrows, asking if I remember, "and this was here when I got back home."

"That is ridiculous."

"I'm serious, Scully!" He takes another big gulp of tea. At my increasingly skeptical, inquisitive look, he says, "I have never been more serious in my *life.* Why would I lie? Ok, well I can see why you would think I could want to lie about having mirrors above my bed." I try to keep my face serious, but am failing. So is he. "But, I am not lying. I swear on…I don't know, whatever the hell book I can't live without."

"You swear on…The X-Files?"

"Yeah, that. The ones we didn't lose in the fire, anyway." I see sadness haunt his face for only a moment. But then he says, "I have no damn clue where the hell this thing came from." He finishes his bottle of tea. I briefly remember that strange item I had found in my desk when we had returned from that trip. A penny and dime joined together. "You bring some food to go with this?"

I study him another few moments, figuring I suppose he is telling me the truth, but I can't wrap my head around how it got here then. Finally I give it up. "Yeah," I go to the living room and get the bag with the sandwich.

He meets me at the couch, I put the bag on the coffee table and sit next to him. He's leaning over my shoulder to look at the bag as I open it. "If there's another iced tea in that bag-"

I cut him off with a finger in the air. I reach in, pull out another one and hold it out for him. "Ah, Scully, you really do give me reasons to keep you around sometimes. Now give me my sandwich." I mock offense and hand him his half of the sandwich. "Thank you." He grins and takes a big bite.

I take a bite of my own. "Do you think the Gunmen had something to do with it?" I ask before I take a sip of my water.

"What? Oh, no. I asked them and Frohike said if he was going to buy anyone a waterbed it would be him."

"It would take up the whole room, and what, they'd all sleep on it together?" I smile proudly as Mulder almost spits tea out of his mouth.

xxxxx

A few hours later, we have moved most of the pieces of the bed either out of the apartment or out of the way of the contractors that will be coming tomorrow. He put a lot of it in his storage in the basement, until he can figure out how to discard all of it, especially the mirrors. But we are done for the day. We plop down on the couch, both a little more worn out than we should be, after being sick so recently. "Wanna order a pizza?"

"No, I want to go home." Visions of a hot bath fill my mind.

"Oh, ok." He looks adorably disappointed. I watch him for a few moments. "What?" he asks.

"Were you using the bed, Mulder?"

He shakes his head, smirking. "I told you I didn't buy it, Scully."

"That's not what I asked you."

"Well, yeah, I was sleeping in it, most nights. It was so nice and cool. I'm actually going to miss it…what?" He asks. I'm staring at him again.

I clear my throat, "So, back to sleeping on the couch, huh?"

"Yeah…?" I clear my throat once more, looking down at my nails. "What?"

I take a deep breath and blow it out, my cheeks puffing out a bit from it. "Mulder…"

"Scully…?" He's finally gotten where I'm going with this, but he's going to make me say it.

"You're welcome to stay at my place."

"I'm *welcome* to stay at your place." He states back to me.

I know I'm blushing a little, so I shake my head and turn away from him enough that my hair blocks my face. "Yeah."

He laughs and gets up, putting a hand on my thigh for a moment as he does. "Hell yeah, let me get some things together."

xxxxx

Hours later, we have eaten the food we picked up on the way home. I told him to shower first while I did the dishes. Really, he just smelled worse than I did and I didn't want to smell that after my own shower.

When I am done, I squeeze my hair with the towel until it is just damp and brush it. I brush and floss my teeth. I rinse well, then use my favorite lavender lotion all over. So what if I am primping a little? 'He's your partner, that's what.' But I smirk at that voice in my head, not giving it much mind anymore. Like I was telling Mulder the other day, all of the men involved in that conspiracy have cast enough darkness on my life and I was done living in those shadows.

I change from my robe into some simple pajamas. on the way to the living room. I stand in front of the couch, looking down at him. He is stretched across the whole thing. "Move, Mulder." I say when he doesn't move and just looks up at me, one of the pillows between his forearm and his head.

He pats the couch where his hand is resting in front of him on the couch cushion. "You really want me to move?" There's that boyish, hopeful look of his.

My lips scrunch up, suppressing a smile, and he knows he's got me. He pulls me down by my hand and guides me to lay down in front of him. He scoots back on the couch to give me enough room, then moves the pillow and has me rest my head where it was.

"Movie just started…" Soon we are laying there, supposedly watching a movie. I am completely distracted by every wandering, seemingly absentminded stroke of his fingers, though. Through my hair, on my ear, down my neck, down my arm. He spreads open my hand with his, tracing and tickling in a very pleasant way. After a few minutes, he stops, paying more attention to the movie. I don't hide my disappointment. I squeeze my fingers around his, looking at him over my shoulder. He smiles down at me and moves his hand back up to my shoulder. "Are you enjoying this, Agent Scully?" his voice rumbles near my ear.

"Maybe." I answer as he lowers his nose to my hair, "And you?"

"Uhh, yeah, Scully. You smell really good." His hand moves down to my neck, tracing little circles down my windpipe. He traces between my collar bones, then he pauses.

"Mulder…" I say his name in such a way that I make it clear I do not want him to stop.

He moans low in his throat when I say his name. He runs the backs of his fingers down the front of the buttons of my pajama shirt and places his hand on my bare stomach. "Soft," he mumbles against my ear before just barely biting the shell of my ear with his teeth. His hand is roaming slowly up my abdomen. I shiver at his mouth on my ear, sucking air into my lungs. My back arches. My eyes open wide, then squeeze closed. I get chills with ever breath out of his nose onto my ear. God what is he doing to me, he hasn't even really touched me yet? We haven't even *kissed* yet. My heart starts racing and my breath quickens at that thought, this is just the beginning.

His hand makes it all the way up my stomach, his fingers just millimeters away from touching the bottom of my breast. He's panting against my ear, sending sinful little sensations down through every part of my body. "Mulder," I whisper, once again asking him to stop hesitating.

I faintly whimper in protest when he withdraws his hand from my shirt, but decide it's ok when he is unbuttoning my shirt. I notice that he is actually shaking a little, and I feel relieved I'm not the only one.

Once he is finished unbuttoning, he places his hand under my breast, his thumb resting between both of them, "I can't believe this is happening, Scully. I want you so bad right now," his voice rumbles in my ear. My back arches on it's own, pushing myself right against his hand. I moan when I feel his erection against my backside. Just when I think I can't take anymore sensation, he takes my breast into his hand. There is no more hesitation, he takes it fully into his hand. He growls into my ear before moving his mouth down to my neck, latching on there. My body involuntarily moves against him again. He holds my nipple between his finger and thumb, before taking me fully into his hand again.

He moves his hand quickly down to the waist of my pajama pants. He hesitates, not like before, only long enough for me to stop him if I wish to. I do not stop him and he quickly slides his fingers under my panties and between my legs. I open my legs for him, hooking my foot around his leg. Both of us moan in unison when he touches me. He doesn't waste any time there, and I am greatly relieved when he pushes his middle finger up inside of me. He adjust himself behind me to give his hand a better angle, breathing heavily. My hand rests on the forearm of the hand that is inside of me, my fingers squeezing and urging him on. He urges me to move more onto my back so he can maneuver a little better. He is looking down at his hand in my pants. He finds the spot and my back arches up high while I'm digging my nails into the skin on his arm. When he adjusts his hand and he brushes against my clit, I begin to tremble. He pushes his finger harder against my G spot on his next stroke just as his mouth lands on mine I had been biting my lip and he pushes his tongue between my lip and teeth, separating them, surprising me because my eyes were squeezed closed. I'm coming around his finger while his tongue probes my mouth, inside my cheek, against my tongue. He growls into my mouth as he feels me coming around him. He slows as my orgasm subsides, but when he pulls back and softly bites my bottom lip and his finger brushes against my G spot again, I come all over again. He whimpers against my lips, skillfully fingering me through this one also.

When I am finally coming down, he slides his finger out of me and removes his hand from my pants. He rests his hand on my thigh, his forhead is resting on my lips. I already feel sweat there. He squeezes my thigh and I can feel how tense he is in every muscle I am in contact with. I pull my leg back from over his, then stand up just enough to get him onto his back before straddling him on the couch. He rests his hands on my hips but stops me with a hand on my shoulder when I bend over to kiss him. "I need a minute, Scully."

"All right, Mulder….but then I want you to take me to bed." I feel his fingers tighten their grip on my hips and I swear I can almost literally see fire in his eyes. The way he is with me, how open he is, only fuels my fire and makes me forget about things like restraint and self control. He sits up, somehow picking me up after telling me to hold on. He's walking to my bedroom with me holding onto his hips and neck. He sits down on my bed with me straddling his thighs, and reaches up to straighten my hair from where it got messed up on the couch. He stops with a hand over my hair, staring at me.

"This is gonna sound pathetically cliché, but you are really beautiful, Scully." I sigh as he brushes his fingers over my brow bone and down the side of my face. I close my eyes and turn my face into his hand as he touches my cheek with the back of his fingers. Then I smell myself on his fingers and I look at him through my lashes. He sees the look in my eyes and nods. We're going for each others clothes at the same time. He beats me to it, pushing my pajama top off of my shoulders before I pull up on the hem of his T-shirt and yank it over his head. I stand up on the floor, pushing on his chest to keep him on the bed.

"Get undressed," I say, taking off my pajama bottoms and panties.

He's breathing faster again already, removing the rest of his clothes and tossing them aside. I climb back onto the bed, stalking up to him and pushing him back to lay down crossways on my bed. It's my turn to explore him for a moment. I'm getting to touch his chest for the first time, not as his doctor but as a woman about to be with him. I watch my hand move over his chest, my thumb brushes over one of his nipples and he sucks in a breath. I look at him for just a moment and see him staring at my breasts. I look back down at my hand again as it works it's way down his muscular abs. I flatten my hand on him here and there, feeling the hardness of those muscles. I glance at him again and he's watching my face now, his eyes just as focused on me as I've ever seen them on anything else before. I move my hand down the hair low on his abdomen, my fingers barely pushing into his pubic hair. His eyes grow darker than I've ever seen them. I let my eyes travel down his neck, then his chest and abs, down to where my hand rests and then I take the sight of his erection. My lips part and I glance at him for just a moment. His own lips have parted, his eyelids are heavy. I look back down at him and have to take him into my hand. He's had THIS all of these years and I had no idea.

"Scully…damn it, Scully." I still my hand for just a moment, letting him gather himself. But that doesn't last long, my hand is squeezing him, slowly moving over him. I feel the softness of his skin moving over the hardness of his erection. I slowly squeeze him, bottom to top a few times. When I see the precum at his tip, I move my thumb toward it. He grabs my wrist, shaking his head. "No. " he says and his head falls back on the bed, breathing heavily. I straddle him and lower my face to his, nuzzling his nose much like he did with me before our first kiss. I stay that way for a minute, letting him gather himself, breathing the air from his lungs.

I kiss him deeply before I ask him, "Are you ready?" I hope so because I am. He nods, I feel it against my nose where we are touching. I pull back enough to look at him again as I wrap my hand around him again and finally take him just inside my entrance. He slides in with little resistance, despite his width, I am that ready for him. But I have not had anyone inside of me for years. Someone of this size, never. I bite my lip, continuing to raise up and then take in a little more, pushing down every time before I've completely adjusted from the last. He's holding still, his hands in the air by my sides, his face the picture of restraint. He's shaking from holding back, the muscle in his jaw clenched tighter than I've ever seen it. I take him as fully inside as I can before I move my knees down on the bed, taking a little more. My eyes fall closed, but he reaches his hand up to my neck, making me look at him again. I try to hold his eyes as I move slowly, wincing against a small amount of pain that turns into incredible pleasure when I push down on him again. My eyes close again and he sits up, adjusting my legs so I can still move on him, but I lose some of his length inside me. But he kisses me and makes up for that. I feel the same way I did the first time I kissed him. No, more than that. I feel more alive than I ever have before.

He kisses me with this incredible passion and I push down onto him at the right angle. I am already trembling, in the first stages of another orgasm. He holds onto me and flips me over. I fall back down onto the bed, with my head up between the pillows, I lose that orgasm, but when he slides deep inside me I arch my back and cry out. My arms are still around his neck holding on tight. He pulls out and slides deep inside me again and I whimper, arching my back and raising my knees higher. I suddenly become aware that he is talking. His mouth is next to my ear. "…so goddamn good. This is so amazing. You're so hot, Scully, I can't even think straight, I'm going out of my mind." Peppered throughout his words are little unintelligible moans. Of course, he can't shut up half of the time I've known him, why would this be any different? Fortunately, his voice only builds up my pleasure.

He takes my arms by my wrists and pushes them up above my head. He adjusts my hips and pushes my left leg up higher by my thigh with his right hand, his left elbow on the bed under my shoulder. He slides into me even more deeply and I'm shaking beneath him again, my back arching and my head tilting back so far that I could see the headboard if I could open my eyes. My hands reach back and push against the headboard, so I can meet his gentle thrusts with little ones of my own. My orgasm is building so tortuously slowly, I feel as if every muscle between my stomach and knees are in on it. He pushes my leg out and my eyes fly open as he slides inside me again, barely even thrusting. I finally go over the edge, coming more slowly and intensely than I knew possible. There are tears coming out of my eyes, I suppose I'm crying, but not in the sappy way that I imagined women cry during lovemaking. Tears are simply escaping my eyes from the intensity of it all. He falls down onto both of his elbows, both hands moving to the top of my head, his forearms under my shoulders. Mumbling unintelligibly against my ear as I push with my hands and meet his harder thrusts now. He mumbles something about coming and I nod. I have been on this peak for what feels like forever, I feel it through every part of me. I say his name, barely recognizing my own voice, desperately wanting him to feel what I'm feeling. One of his hands finds one of mine. His fingers lace with mine as he thrusts one final time, harder than I expected but it immediately sends me into an even higher state of pleasure, with a sharp yell from both of us. He is squeezing my hand so hard, I vaguely register the pain, but am more focused on the rest of my body, on his body trembling as he comes above me.

A minute later, we still haven't spoken, he's still moving over me now and then. He moves a hand down to my hips and holds me there, pushing back into me. "What the hell did you do to me, Scully? I think I'm still coming. That was so…goddamn intense" He sighs and nuzzles my ear, giving one last little push of his hips against mine, his almost soft penis still inside me.

I am finally able to straighten my back, coming out of that arch, groaning with the protests of my back, but still feeling amazing. "What did *you* do to *me,* Mulder? I'm going to be sore all over for days."

He smirks and looks down at me for the first time since…God knows how long ago. He sees the trail that the tears left down to my temple. "You ok?" He looks more confused than worried, he *knows* I was enjoying myself. I nod and raise my head to meet his lips with mine. He kisses me back. We aren't really kissing, he's just moving his lips over mine before nuzzling my nose again. "I think I said this a few times during, but in case I wasn't making any sense, I have *never* felt like that. Ever." I nod and pull back to look at his face. I know I don't have to tell him that I haven't either. "Think we'll ever be able to pull that off again?" He asks as his fingers play absentmindedly with my hair up on the pillow. I feel myself blush, my insides already reacting to the thought of 'next time.' He feels it and kisses me again, deeply. "You're a little firecracker, Scully, but I can't believe I could ever feel that good again."

"Skeptic," I mumble against his lips, smiling.

"But I'll die trying," he says and smiles before kissing me deeply.

* * *

"In the instant that you love someone  
In the second that the hammer hits  
Reality runs up your spine  
And the pieces finally fit

And all I ever needed was the one  
Like freedom fields where wild horses run  
When stars collide like you and I  
No shadows block the sun  
You're all I've ever needed  
Baby you're the one"

Elton John- The One

What? She knows music other than Depeche Mode? Yes, she does.

* * *

Author's Notes: I hope it was worth the wait. It's hard for me to imagine going from what they were to in bed together before that certain point in Season 7, so I can't help imagining it would take a lot of adjustment, especially for Scully.

I don't have any pressing ideas for another story, but I have thoroughly enjoyed pushing out 4 stories in less than 4 weeks. I was surprised that each story came to me to begin with, and glad I was able to complete each idea. Much love to all of the new friends I've made along the way. Maybe I'll be back again soon, but for now, I think I will take my turn to enjoy READING rather than writing.

Cheers to Mulder and Scully, may they continue to haunt our thoughts with their banging bodies and insatiable sex drive. *eg*


End file.
